Leek and Potato Soup with Buttered Bread on the side
by an ounce of shag tobacco
Summary: 'Very seldom do I get ill and when I do, I am most certainly bed bound for days. It is mainly due to the fact I am stubborn and hate to admit I am ill until it is too late. It was during the winter of 1887 that I was struck with a flu that rendered me to bed rest and Holmes to nurse me back to health. ' Just a short evening with a bit of fluff.


Very seldom do I get ill and when I do, I am most certainly bed bound for days. It is mainly due to the fact I am stubborn and hate to admit I am ill until it is too late. It was during the winter of 1887 that I was struck with a flu that rendered me to bed rest and Holmes to nurse me back to health. For five days, he would dine with me in my rooms; usually, it was Scottish broth or leek and potato soup with a slice of buttered bread. When we'd finished eating, Holmes would curl into my side, resting his head on my chest, allowing me to stroke my hands through his slick backed hair. On the third day, Holmes had an engagement with his brother, Mycroft, at The Diogenes' Club. Some issue with a one of the parliamentarians had caused the elder Holmes to consult the younger, possibly just a mere trifle. On the night in question Holmes and I were lay together as I have described, this time reading some book about life on sea (my friend evidently not interested as he let out a yawn) and most of all just appreciating the time we had been given.

"Are you sure you will be fine this evening all by yourself?" Holmes asked me, raising his head a little to look at me.

"Of course, "I replied. "For all we know, this matter could lead the empire to its knees. It is usually that kind of case when your brother comes to you with it."

Holmes nodded. "Yes, or it could be that he has decided to be lazier than usual." He suggested. I chuckled, returning to my reading, fighting the urge to mess with my friend's hair as I knew and detested the fact he would be going soon. I hardly noticed him roll onto his front to look up at me, a mischievous grin stretched upon those thin wry lips. I looked down at him slowly.

"You are determined to stop me from finishing this novel, aren't you?"

"It hardly seems worth the read Watson." He kissed my neck. I tutted, closing the book and placing it in my lap, warning him with a glare and then with his first name… But still he did not stop nuzzling in my neck. I could feel him smiling against my skin, pleased by my reaction no doubt.

"You'll be red in the face for this meeting if you carry on." I said, pushing him away gently. Holmes moaned and forced himself closer, this time planting his lips on my jaw and cheek.

"What does that matter?" He muttered between his sweet kisses, which had now moved to my mouth, his tongue darting past my lips. It caught me rather off guard; so much, all I could do was join in. We were like this for a few minutes, exchanging little intimacies, until we were interrupted by a voice drifting through the floor boards.

"Mr Holmes! There is a cab waiting for you!"

It was Mrs Hudson. My friend rolled his eyes and sighed, placing his hands over my ear. "Tell him I will be five minutes!" He yelled back. I grinned at him and pushed at his waist.

"Go Holmes. You wouldn't want to be late."

Holmes shook his head. "I have five minutes." He kissed me again. My word he was very up for it that evening and I dear I not been so drained of energy, I would have too. I could feel his hand creeping within the sheets and rubbing the inside of my thigh.

"Mr Holmes! I do not think Horace will wait much longer." Another yell drifted from down stairs.

I patted Holmes on the back. "Not tonight it seems dear chap. Good try though. Mycroft awaits you in his armchair, no doubt with a fine glass of whiskey ready."

"Oh I do not know why I agreed to see that oath this evening." Holmes huffed.

"Brotherly love?" I suggested.

"Now, really John, do you believe it is brotherly love that could pull me away from my love? I would willingly spend the evening with you but…"

"Mr Holmes!"

He sighed, raising himself from my chest, stretching his arms. "I have to go." A kiss. "I am sorry." I watched him quickly pull on his jacket, but before he could stand, I caught his collar and pulled him down to me.

"Tell Mycroft we are well." I said, looking Holmes straight in the eye, our noses together. "But do not tell him too much."

Holmes grinned, we engaged in one last battle of our mouths before he pulled way. "You keep telling me to go… I have to go. I won't be long."

I nodded, shooting him a smile and waved him away, the door slamming behind him. I once again picked up my book and now with no distraction, continued to read, waiting for Holmes to return from his little endeavour.


End file.
